Chances
by castielandhisassbutt
Summary: Meg and Castiel have never met in person and have been e-mailing each other for a while, until Meg up and moves to his city.


**Words**: 2,140  
**Rating**: G  
**Pairing**: Castiel x Meg  
**Summary**: Meg and Castiel have never met in person and have been e-mailing each other for a while, until Meg up and moves to his city.

It all began with a simple letter detailing her current events. Well, _technically_ it began with an introduction through some online server that got Meg interested in the first place. She never pictured herself out on the road, on her own, heading towards a city she'd never been to. It had always been her and her father, and not a pleasant father at that. But she had endured it for eighteen long years. Her mother had vanished after she'd been born, leaving her drunken ass of a father to take care of her and 'raise' her. To be honest, she raised herself once she was old enough.

Her first online encounter with this friendly stranger had been through some random chat roulette type-site. They'd had a long conversation about their lives, being discrete of course. Then 'he' had said he'd like to keep in contact with her and gave her his e-mail address. Maybe it was stranger at first; talking to a stranger you didn't know on the internet. She didn't have a picture of him; she didn't know what schools he attended. But she did know where he lived and what his name was.

Castiel. She thought he'd been joking the first time he told her. She still believes he was joking. The Angel of Thursday as a name? She found it to be more amusing than it probably should have been. When she revealed to him that her name was Meg and she was only eighteen, he said it was cute. It was most likely the only time a boy, or man, had been able to make her blush.

Driving along the road, she thought about their little e-mails to each other. This was insane. She should turn around and go back, but it was too late now. She'd already left the letter for her father to find.

_Dear dad,_

_By the time you read this letter, you'll have found that my stuff and I are both gone. You don't know where I'm going, but you can know I won't be back._

_Bye,  
Meg_

If she were to go back now, it would just be another beating. Or worse. She closed her eyes tight for just a moment, reminding herself she was doing this for herself, to make herself happy. She looked back at the road, and then glanced at the laptop beside her. Technically that hadn't been hers, but her father wouldn't miss it. He never used it anyway. She wanted to check her e-mail so badly, to see how Castiel had responded when she'd sent him the e-mail saying she was moving to his city, to Los Angeles.

There wasn't much in the small compact car with her. She had only packed her clothes and brought some essentials. She'd saved up money from working at a diner in her small town. The tips had also helped, couldn't forget those. There was a tiny apartment with her name on it, along with a bed that she needed to purchase. It was a wild card she was playing, but she was in this for the long haul, and she knew there was no bluffing. She was going to win this.

Once she reached the apartment, it was like everything had changed. Driving into L.A., she'd seen this beautiful skyline, something respectable. Now that she was in the city, standing in the middle of an empty apartment except for a few boxes and some bags filled with her clothes? She wasn't so sure what she preferred anymore. But it was down to business!

The bed was ordered from some IKEA and it arrived not too late in the evening. She already had the bed set up before nightfall had completely covered the city. There was a small balcony, something she was glad to have. She went over to it, opening the door and glancing outside, hands in the back pockets of her jeans. It was nice out. But the streets were loud. She frowned a bit and went back inside. This was something she'd just have to get used to.

Then it dawned on her; grabbing the laptop, she hooked it up and used someone else's wifi. And there it was, e-mail from Castiel. She bit her bottom lip, closing her laptop. She wasn't ready to read his response quite yet. She got out of her jeans and pulled on something smaller; a short jean skirt, a red, loose fitting shirt, and a pair of black boots. She headed out the door with a leather jacket on, walking down the street. She had no direction in mind, she just knew she needed the fresh air.

Pausing when she noticed a bar name Castiel had mentioned, she took a double take at it. Was it the same one? Was there more than one of them? She groaned, running a hand through her hair. It wasn't like she could just waltz right in anyway. She wasn't of age yet! Was he? He must be since he's been speaking of bars. She finally decided to cross the street and stepped inside the bar, noticing that it isn't a very busy place. She smiled to herself; of course he'd like something so simple.

Meg only stayed long enough to have a soda, before leaving and going back home. She flopped down on her bed, wondering if maybe he'd come into the bar that evening. Maybe they'd already passed each other and neither of them had realized it. Again, she groaned and curled up on her bed. When did she become so boy crazy? Rather, when did she become so Castiel obsessed?

On the other hand, Castiel was – in a way – her saviour. Meg spent her days in the comfort of the apartment, making it more home-like. She decorated it with posters of bands she liked, bands like the Clash, the Ramones, Black Sabbath, and Garbage. With each day that passed, the apartment looked better and better. She'd even found herself a job at that bar. She couldn't make the drinks or work behind the bar, but hey, she could serve them.

Things were going good. Meg was happy for once. There wasn't an alcoholic behemoth breathing down her neck, calling her names, touching her and making her feel unwanted. Besides, working at the bar upped the chances of possibly meeting Castiel. That's all she wanted, to meet the mysterious Castiel. She'd lost count of the days gone by since she'd e-mailed him.

"You're a little slow tonight," she heard Ellen call from behind the bar, picking on her. Ellen was her boss, had a younger daughter around her age. She liked being in her company, working with her. For a boss, she was a hell of a woman.

Meg swung around with the empty tray and returned to the bar, "Don't test me, grandma," she replied cheekily. Ellen rolled her eyes, reaching over to smack Meg, but Meg dodged it last second. They both laughed. When had things ever been like this for her, so laid back? She couldn't recall.

"Just take that drink to the table in the back corner. And be nice, he's a regular."

Narrowing her eyes a bit, she snapped a bit, "I'm always nice." There was that damn cheeky grin again as she grabbed the drink, walking away from Ellen and towards the back table. She felt some of her hair fall in front of her face as she walked towards the back. She tried to blow it out of her face, only to sigh when it stayed there. Even pulled back into a messy ponytail, it was still impossible.

Setting the drink on the table, she smiled at the man sitting at the table by himself, "Here you are." Glancing at the drink, she only now realized it was non-alcoholic. She quirked a brow, curious as to why he'd come to a bar just to drink a non-alcoholic drink when he could go somewhere more comfortable. Maybe he preferred the company in the bar, though – just like she did.

"Thank you." His voice was deep, gruff. It caught her attention in a way she hadn't expected.

Tucking those strands of hair behind her ear, she looked at him, giving the best smile she could muster, "No thanks needed. Let me know if you need anything else." She began to walk away, but his voice only grabbed her attention once more.

"My name's Castiel," her heart just about skipped a beat, "you might as well know now. After all, I _am _a regular here." She could hear the bit of cheekiness in his voice and she actually liked it – but was this _the _Castiel? Was this him? She turned around to face him, the tray slipping from her hand and falling to the floor.

The moment the tray hit the floor, Meg had the attention of pretty much the entire bar. Her breathing hitched before she could speak, "Castiel?" she repeated his name, trying to wrap herself around it, almost to keep herself warm, "I'm… I'm Meg."

Castiel's gaze lifted from his drink and he looked at the woman before him, taking in her appearance. The short skirt, the boots and shirt that made her look older than she actually was. And then it clicked and his eyes opened up a bit wider, "As in…" Meg nodded in response.

They both were silent; all the while everyone was staring at them. She found him so rugged and handsome, someone she could be safe with. He found her so lost and beautiful, almost painful. Meg lifted a hand and brought it close to Castiel's face, almost touching it, but not quite. His hand reached up and took her own, bringing it toward his lips and kissing it, Ellen watching from the bar curiously.

A faint blush covered Meg's cheeks and she pulled her hand away, "This is insane." She turned away from Castiel, leaned down and grabbed the tray, then walked away from him without another word. She went to the bar and set the tray down, "Ellen, I'm leaving early. Okay?" Ellen didn't argue it, she just watched her leave – and watched as Castiel went after her.

"Meg wait!" he called, catching up to her. Meg grimaced when he said her name. This was how she wanted it be, wasn't it? She wanted to meet him by chance in the bar. **This is what she wanted**. So why was she running from it? And why was she trying to ignore the one man who had saved her life?

"Just go away, Castiel! You don't know me, and sure as hell you don't want this. Okay?" Meg turned and shoved him back, not wanting him to follow, "All we know about each other are the lies we told each other through our e-mails. That's all we know. It wasn't real. None of it was." _Why _was she being this way?

Castiel frowned, "So you're not eighteen? You didn't live with an abusive father and were looking for a way out? And all those kind things you said to me, none of that was real? I imagined it?"

It was like something inside her was broken and she'd lost her words, "Shut up." Meg didn't want to think about what she'd said to him, about what she'd told him. It had all been a farce. It wasn't real. None of it was. How could someone like Castiel be a real person? No. He couldn't be. There had to be something about him that wasn't concrete, something that made him horrible, awful.

"You're allowed to be afraid."

"Shut. Up."

Castiel's frown grew, before he sighed and looked down, "What is it you want from me then? Why'd you come here? Why did you continue to talk to me?" He could feel his insides turning and it hurt, more than anything else he'd ever experienced before.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"That's what I said!" Meg started walking again, and Castiel followed – but this time he grabbed her arm and swung her around, free hand resting against her cheek, his fingertips curling in what little hair he could grab. He kissed her, softly. It caught Meg off guard, but she found herself kissing him back, an arm going around him, pulling him closer.

After a while, Castiel pulled back, face staying close to Meg's, "Still don't know?" he asked her, brushing the hair from her face.

Meg swallowed, albeit nervously for once, "Shut up," and kissed him this time, her hand moving up and grabbing his hair, almost tugging on it. Alright, so she _did _meet him in the bar by chance. Maybe things will work out, maybe they won't. But right then, all that mattered was what was happening between the two of them. They could both delay their misery.


End file.
